


Heart through the Doorway

by testosterone_tea



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha John, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, First Time, Knotting, Love Confessions, M/M, Omega Sherlock, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-06 01:21:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5397587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/testosterone_tea/pseuds/testosterone_tea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has had his heat suppressants tampered with and ends up in a spot of trouble. What's an omega to do? John to the rescue, of course!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart through the Doorway

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mursili](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mursili/gifts).



> This is a gift to [teajava](http://teajava.tumblr.com/) from [mu5icliz](http://mu5icliz.tumblr.com/)

The night that Sherlock called John with something like panic in his voice, John knew that there was something horribly wrong. There was a bit of a high-pitched whine behind his words, something that John had never heard before.

"I don't know who else to call," Sherlock said. "I definitely can't call my brother. But there's also nothing that you can do."

John had always wondered what hearing Sherlock babble would be like. He'd imagined that it would be cute, but instead it was just terrifying. Sherlock wasn't watching the things that came out of his mouth. Sherlock hated drivel, and he would probably consider the things he was saying as such. 

"Never mind, John, you shouldn't come," Sherlock said. "I don't know... what came over me."

"I'm coming over, Sherlock," John said. "Just stay there."

Sherlock whined, and then said, "No, John, it's probably better that you don't."

"I'm coming," John said.

Sherlock made another sound, too desperate to be called a whine, and hung up.

After this cryptic call was completed, John immediately hopped in a cab to make his way to Baker Street. John, having gone through the whole fiasco of having to turn in his wife to the British authorities for espionage and having his dead best friend return from the afterlife, John had settled in to his home apart from Sherlock for a little while. He'd meant to return to Baker Street eventually, and now that there appeared to be an emergency, John was recalculating in his head when that would occur.

Baker Street was locked up tight when he got there, and Mrs. Hudson wasn't answering the door, so she must be elsewhere. John stared up at the windows of 221b and sighed. He had to get in there somehow.

He briefly considered trying to climb through a window, but reconsidered and simply decided to break the door down. Mrs. Hudson would forgive him, especially since Sherlock was in trouble.

He put his shoulder to it, and it made a very loud thump, but it didn't budge. He tried again, and was about to try for another, when a voice shouted through the door.

"John, stop that!" Sherlock said. "I'll really be in trouble if you knock the door down."

"What kind of trouble?" John asked.

And then it hit him. He hadn't been able to smell it when Sherlock was inside 221b, but now that he was standing at the bottom of the stairs, there it was: the rich and intoxicating aroma of an omega in heat. 

John was immediately hard, as if a switch had been turned on. John groaned and thudded his head against the door. It took all of his control not to try and break the door down again. Sherlock must have heard the thump, because there was an answering thump from the other side.

"So you can smell it," Sherlock said.

"Of course I can," John said raggedly. "How did this happen?"

"I..." Sherlock said, but didn't continue.

Which meant that he had it figured, but was reluctant to tell John how it had happened. That could only mean that John wasn't going to like the answer. 

"Sherlock..." John said. "I know you've been on hormone suppressants. How did you end up in heat?"

Sherlock wasn't really supposed to take hormone surpressants every single time. He was supposed to allow one heat every three cycles, but he hadn't kept up with that. He'd been surpressing his heat for years, as far as John knew. It was bound to be extra strong after being repressed for so long.

"I..." Sherlock said again. "I'd rather not say."

"Is it because it would be embarrassing for you, or embarrassing for me?" John asked. "Remember, I'm a doctor. I've heard it all."

"You couldn't possibly have heard this one," Sherlock said.

"Try me," John said.

"It seems that somebody replaced my vial of hormone surpressant with a placebo," Sherlock said. "And thus, I am now in heat, as some sort of revenge. Are you happy now?"

"No, I am not happy!" John said back.

"I didn't think so," Sherlock said. "Well, now that you know what's going on, you should go away and let me get through this on my own."

"Why should I do that?" John demanded.

"You think I can't smell you just as well as you can smell me?" Sherlock asked. "It's horrible, and it's making me want to do all sorts of things that friends really shouldn't be thinking of each other."

"Oh," John said.

But the real problem was that Sherlock smelled divine, and John wanted those same things that Sherlock was thinking about. But that was the main problem for John – he had always wanted to do those things, right from the very first day he'd seen a leggy, skinny git with riotous curls demanding a mobile. But Sherlock only wanted it now because he was in heat.

Against his will.

Which brought John to his second point. His ex-wife was almost certainly the one that had done the deed, sometime before she'd been dragged off back to America by Mycroft's minions. It made John wonder exactly when it had been done, and if Mary had realized back then just what would happen.

It was such a petty revenge, and it really set John's jaw grinding. What kind of person would force someone into an uncomfortable situation, especially one they weren't used to?

Well, Mary obviously.

"Sherlock, do you need anything?" John asked through the door.

Sherlock groaned from behind the door, and muttered something that John thankfully couldn't hear.

"I'll just get you some things from Tesco, shall I?" John said.

"Yes, fine, just don't try and come in," Sherlock replied.

John tried not to feel too hurt that Sherlock was only accepting his help reluctantly. Of course he didn't want John around if his pheromones were making his heat worse.

John moped about this while in the store, picking up microwavable food, and soap, and biscuits. He tried not to eye up the package of alpha-sized condoms in the health isle, but couldn't help but think of it. There wasn't much he could do besides put all of this in a basket and leave it on the doorstep.

He came back and knocked on the door, trying to breathe through his mouth to stop himself from inhaling any of the sweet scent of omega.

"Are you still outside?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes," John said. 

"Well, don't be."

John huffed and walked across the road. He wasn't going any farther than that. He had yet to set eyes on Sherlock, and he wanted to be sure that he was okay.

Sherlock poked his head out of the door, and then looked up at John standing across the street. He was wearing his blue robe and pyjama pants and one of John's ratty old t-shirts that Sherlock must have nicked at some point. Just seeing Sherlock in his clothes sent a possessive surge through John that John clenched his hands to subdue. His hair was darker and limp with sweat, and even across the street, Sherlock's aroma drifted to John's nose.

Sherlock picked up the basket and quickly closed the door. The snap of the bolt being thrown back across the door could be heard across the street. John sighed and left for home once more.

*~*~*

Sherlock watched John walking away, obviously nursing an erection that made him limp ever so slightly and whimpered.

He knew that he shouldn't have called John. But he'd pressed the speed-dial for John's number before he'd even thought it through. It had been such a terrible idea, especially since it most likely had to do with Mary. She was the only one that had any reason to do something like this.

Everything inside Sherlock ached to call John again, and this time open the door for him. Sherlock had long since deduced that John's cock was on the largish side, even for an alpha. How he wanted it to be John filling him up, instead of the plug which was currently there.

Sherlock's insides ached to be filled properly, and not with this rubber replacement. It was impossible to get anything done without the plug in place, and even that only helped a little. Sherlock could feel the slick lubricant dripping down between his thighs, making his pants sticky. This was why he generally avoided this whole mess.

And John... John thought that Sherlock only wanted to have sex with him because of his heat. Sherlock would never tell him that he'd wanted this from the moment he'd realized that John had shot the cabbie for him.

Sherlock went through the basket of food, savouring the lingering scent of alpha. It was fading fast, and Sherlock wished that there was some other way to get John's scent without John actually being there. If only he had some of John's laundry.

Daydreaming of John's dirty clothes. This is what being in heat had reduced him to.

Sherlock went and flopped down on his bed. The sheets were soaked with his sweat and omega secretions, but Sherlock didn't bother changing them. It was only going to get dirty again. 

Sherlock pulled his pyjama bottoms down and located the end of the thick plug filling him up. He threw his head back with a groan as he eased it out. Sherlock only had one dildo, sadly, because he was hardly ever in heat. Most omegas went through it once every three or so months and had a supply of toys.

This toy was about the same size as John was. Sherlock whined as he eased the enormous thing between his cheeks and into his hole. It was still gaping from having the plug inside him, and slick with natural lubricant. Sherlock bore down on it and gasped as it pushed past one opening, and then the next.

The remembered scent of John had him whimpering again, rolling his hips up against the intrusion, trying to hit his sweet spot. John would be able to. John had strong thighs, and Sherlock ached to wrap his legs around John's hips.

Before Sherlock could really get into the fantasy, there was a knock on the door downstairs. Sherlock had sent Mrs. Hudson to stay with her sister for a few days while he was in heat. Who could possibly be downstairs? Was it John again? His pulse picked up for just a second before he shook his head. It didn't matter if it were John, he'd still have to tell him to leave.

When he looked out the window, he was sad to see it wasn't John. It looked like a client. Sherlock should really put up a sign on the door to not disturb him.

The knock came again and Sherlock ignored it. He would go away eventually.

The knock came again, loudly enough to cause Sherlock to grimace. Would the imbecile just go away already? He was obviously not coming to the door.

The knock came again, and then a voice growled, "Open up, I know you're in there. I can smell your scent all over this building."

"If you can smell my scent, then you know why I'm not opening the door," Sherlock shouted back.

"I can help you with that," the man shouted back.

"No!" Sherlock said. "Now go away."

Sherlock thought that was the end of it, but the knocking persisted. Did this alpha not understand that Sherlock didn't want anything to do with him?

"Go away!" Sherlock said. "Do you not understand the meaning of 'no' when you hear it?"

"No one says no to me!" the alpha replied. "Let me in."

"Well, I mean it! No! Bugger off!" Sherlock said.

The man knocked again.

Sherlock couldn't go out and deal with the man himself, but he knew who would. He speed-dialed John again, and John picked up mid-ring.

"Sherlock?" John asked, sounding almost excited.

"John, there's someone outside my door who won't go away," Sherlock said.

"Is there, now," John said. "I'll deal with it."

John hung up, and downstairs, the knocking continued.

"Would you just give up?" Sherlock asked through the door.

"Will you just give in?" asked the alpha. "Half the street can probably smell you."

"I'm not letting you in," Sherlock said, and left it at that.

The silly other alpha wouldn't leave, and so Sherlock decided that the idiot deserved what he got. John was going to come and take care of it for him.

Meanwhile, it looked like one of his experiments was almost ready for the next stage, and he hadn't even been able to finish his wank. Not that it would have made much of a difference, he'd still want to fuck himself on the dildo anyways. 

He put the plug back in place and wandered back over to the kitchen.

After a while, Sherlock realized there was a commotion going on downstairs and went to look out of the window. As predicted, John was facing off with the alpha. Sherlock smiled in satisfaction, and went back to his experiment.

*~*~*

John put his phone down and immediately turned around. Sherlock was in trouble, and he had to go help. He would have been a bit annoyed with the interruption, but this was something of an emergency. Not only that, but it gave him an excuse to go back.

To be honest, he hadn't strayed far from 221b. He'd found all sorts of reasons to dawdle in this part of the city, hoping against hope that he'd be allowed back. Low and behold, a reason had emerged from the woodworks. 

The bothersome alpha was apparent from all the way down the block. John clenched his fists in anticipation and strode down the street as if he was going to a stand-off in the old west. The other alpha didn't notice him right away. But when he noticed John, he _noticed_. John could swear his hair was standing on end.

"So he called for reinforcements, did he?" the alpha sneered.

"It looks as if they were required," John replied, knuckles cracking. "So are you going to move along now, or what?"

"I don't think you understand," said the alpha. "I was here first."

"And Sherlock said he didn't want you," John replied. "I'll give you a warning right now. Sherlock Holmes is not to be trifled with. Leave now, and you won't get hurt."

That was apparently the wrong thing to say to get him to leave. The other alpha bristled angrily and stood up taller, trying to make himself look as large as possible. John squared himself up as well. The air between them was tight with tension.

The other alpha twitched, and that was it. The alpha leapt forward, fist raised. John, used as he was to real combat in an active war zone, calmly sidestepped the blow and brought his elbow up. John's elbow caught the alpha right in the solar plexus. The alpha dropped back on his arse, too winded to stand back up.

Just like that, it was over and done with. The alpha slunk off, and John turned back to the door of 221b.

"Sherlock?" he asked through the door.

*~*~*

Sherlock could hear John and the other alpha arguing through the door and groaned low in his throat. The primal part of Sherlock thrilled with pleasure. Two alphas were fighting over him, and he stifled a mewl with the back of his hand. There was a part of him that wanted to simply open the door to incite them to further confrontation. 

However, Sherlock managed to rein himself in. He put his back to the door, sliding down it to the floor. He let his head thunk once against the door, listening to the pair outside facing each other down.

John was being magnificent in his defense outside, and Sherlock felt himself leaking around the plug, soaking his pyjamas with lubrication. 

That's when John knocked on the door, and Sherlock jolted upright in surprise.

"Sherlock, he's gone. Will you please tell me what that was all about?" John asked.

"It was just a client – or a would-be client," Sherlock said, panting as the scent of riled up alpha filtered under the door. "His wife was cheating and he wanted proof. I would have told him to bugger off either way."

"Are you all right, Sherlock?" John asked in concern. "You sound a bit... off."

"It's these confounded hormones," said Sherlock, gulping around the saliva filling his mouth. "All I would like to do is open this door."

"Please," John said, then cut himself short. "No, never mind. This isn't how I imagined this happening."

"What happening?" Sherlock asked.

"I want..." John said, trailing off. "I want."

"Just say it, John," Sherlock begged. "I promise I won't be angry."

"I want you, Sherlock," said John. "I want you so much that it's eating me up inside. I can smell you through the door. Oh, god."

"It... it's just the heat," Sherlock said sadly. "Once this is over, you'll be embarrassed and avoid me."

"No, that's not it," John said pleadingly. "I've... I've wanted you for ages. For a long time, I promise I did, this is just bringing it all up to the forefront. I can't resist."

"That's the problem," Sherlock said. "If you can't resist, then how do I know you're telling the truth?"

"I promise I am," John said. "Like I said, this isn't how I wanted this to happen. It was far more romantic in my head."

"Romantic?" Sherlock asked hesitantly. "You're just telling me this so I'll let you in."

"God, yes, please let me in, Sherlock," John said.

"I can't," Sherlock said, feeling a sharp clench in his chest as he refused. 

He ran up the stairs and slammed the door at the top, resting against it and panting hard. He listened for the sound of John walking away. Then, he went to watch from the window as John made his way back up the street. Sherlock could tell that he was walking as slowly as possible, as John generally had a quick, wide stride.

The further John got down the street, the more Sherlock felt as if he'd made a dreadful mistake. A mistake that could be rectified. He trembled on the edge, wanting to call out to John, but also being afraid of what calling out would bring. Fear held him back until suddenly, something inside him switched on.

It might be a mistake, but he would regret losing this chance.

Sherlock flung the window open and bellowed out the window, "JOHN."

John swung around, as if he'd been waiting for just such a cue as this.

"John, I was wrong!" Sherlock said. "Come back!"

People in the street were turning and looking up at the window in curiosity, but Sherlock only had eyes for John, who was turning around and striding back towards Sherlock and 221b. Sherlock rushed down the stairs, nearly tripping in his haste and unlocked it.

John knocked, almost hesitantly, and Sherlock threw the door open.

They looked at each other tentatively, the tension between them hanging on by a thread. Then, Sherlock nodded, and John stepped inside the house. John slammed the door behind him and scooped Sherlock up so that his legs were on either side of John's hips, facing him. John laughed at his surprise and began his way up the stairs. Sherlock yelped in alarm and clung to John.

As John carried him up the stairs, Sherlock could feel something hard and hot resting against the curve of his arse and shivered as he realized John was hard against him. As soon as John was up the stairs and inside 221b, Sherlock launched himself at John's face and planted a sloppy and uncoordinated kiss on John's mouth.

"You marvelous thing," John said, and he backed up until he almost fell backwards, sinking back into his chair with Sherlock in his lap.

Sherlock whined and kissed John again. John ran his hands up Sherlock's side, and Sherlock whined and grinded himself back against John's hardened length, which was settled in the curve of his arse.

"John," Sherlock pleaded.

John sank his fingers into Sherlock's curls and pulled his head down so that he could press their lips together. He teased Sherlock's lips with his, brushing lightly, sipping at Sherlock's mouth. Sherlock made a pleading noise in his throat and squirmed in John's lap. John gasped, hands going down to Sherlock's hips and thrusting up. He brushed against the end of the plug, which was still inside Sherlock.

Sherlock threw his head back and keened at the feeling of the plug shifting inside him.

"What's this?" John asked, hands reaching back to feel the blunt end of the plug.

"I... oh, I was..." Sherlock tried to say something coherent, but the plug was moving as John explored the end of the plug.

"You're all ready to be opened up," John whispered.

Sherlock nodded frantically.

"Here, let's get you undressed," John whispered.

Sherlock struggled with quick, jerky movements, removing the robe and John's ratty t-shirt. John's hands immediately went to smooth up Sherlock's sides, thumbs tweaking at Sherlock's pebbled nipples. Sherlock whined and panted as John's mouth joined the fray, lapping and sucking at them.

"Please, John," Sherlock begged. "Just do something!"

"I will," John promised. "I will."

*~*~*

John almost couldn't believe this was happening.

There was a beautiful creature that smelled divine sitting in his lap and begging him to do something. Sherlock, usually so reticent about any sort of feelings had begun to unfurl, like a blossom. There was a wet patch on the back of his pyjama bottoms where he was leaking with desire, all for John.

"Come on," John murmured. "Let's get these off you, love."

He began pulling the pyjamas off, revealing that Sherlock hadn't been wearing pants underneath them. John groaned as Sherlock's cock sprung free, red and leaking. 

"It's not fair if you don't undress, too," Sherlock said petulantly.

"Of course, darling," John said, and immediately pulled his jumper and t-shirt off as one.

"Oh," Sherlock said, hands hesitant to touch, but clearly wanting to.

"Go ahead, love," John said.

"Mmm," Sherlock murmured, hands pressing to John's chest, which hadn't lost all of its definition from John's army days.

Sherlock's fingers speared through the hair on John's chest, and Sherlock nuzzled his nose into the crease of John's neck, smelling the thick alpha pheromones there.

"Oh, you delicious creature," John said.

Suddenly, Sherlock slid off of John's lap and onto the floor. John was startled until Sherlock fumbled at the button of John's jeans. Once he got them undone, John lifted his hips to allow Sherlock to pull them down. John's briefs were tight around his cock, and Sherlock pressed his nose to John's crotch. John groaned as Sherlock nuzzled at his cock through the thin, worn material.

Sherlock surprised him by lapping at him through the material, quickly getting it slick with his saliva. John groaned, and Sherlock finally took pity on his groans and pulled the material off, throwing it somewhere in the room. John didn't much care as long as Sherlock's mouth remained where it was.

"It's so huge," Sherlock marveled in pleasure. "It's going to feel so good inside me."

John was about to say something, but then Sherlock lapped at the underside of his cock, rendering him momentarily speechless. He groaned as Sherlock wrapped a hand around the base, steering the tip into his mouth. His lips looked luscious wrapped around his length, tongue working the underside.

"You're amazing," John said.

At the compliment, Sherlock renewed his suction, licking and sucking as if there was nothing better to do than suck John's cock. John could hardly believe that the dark head bobbing in his lap was actually Sherlock. It was like a fantasy come to life.

"Come, darling, let's take this to your bedroom," John said.

"Don't you like it?" Sherlock asked.

"It's amazing, love, but I really want to see what you would look like spread out across a bed," John said honestly.

John stood, and taking Sherlock's hand, lead him down the hall to the bedroom. He expected it to be just as cluttered as the rest of the house. It was surprisingly clean, which made John smile. Of course he'd keep his own room clean.

Sherlock did as John had asked and spread himself out across the bed on his stomach. The black plug was nestled firmly between his cheeks, and his long alabaster limbs were everywhere, stark against the dark blue sheets.

"You look like a dream," John said. "You're beautiful, you know."

Sherlock shivered and whined. John was going to have so much fun taking Sherlock apart, piece by piece.

*~*~*

Sherlock waited for John to do something. He was baring himself, figuratively and literally, and it was nerve-wracking waiting for John to decide what he wanted. At the first touch of John's hands on his hips, Sherlock twitched. 

John's hand ran up Sherlock's spine and back down. Sherlock's legs shook, and John had hardly done a thing to him. John kissed the middle of his spine and seemed determined to press his mouth to every single vertebrae on the way down.

Sherlock clenched his hands in the sheet and waited.

"Oh, look at you," John said in admiring tones. "Look at all this. I'm so lucky."

Sherlock felt John touch the plug.

"Is it okay if I take this out, love?" asked John, stroking his tailbone.

"Y-y-yes," Sherlock stuttered over his words, finding it hard to get the letters out in the right order. His head was a jumble of pleasure right now.

Sherlock groaned as John started to work the plug out of him, putting pressure on different spots as he eased it out. Sherlock whimpered, the emptiness inside of him aching for something to fill it up.

"Shhh, I've got you," John whispered. "Oh, you smell divine. I think..."

Sherlock wanted John to finish his thought, but was sidelined by John's thumbs pressing his arse cheeks apart and stroking around his hole. The slickness there made it easy. John spread him open, making him feel even more exposed than he already was.

"John..." Sherlock whispered.

"It's all right, sweetheart," John said huskily.

Then, he licked the crease of his testicles, and the soft, sweet spot right behind. He lapped at it, getting it soaking wet in his saliva. Sherlock grasped at the sheets, thighs shivering with tension. He wanted John to get where he was going, but he was taking his time with Sherlock's perineum, licking it and stroking it with the pad of his thumbs.

"John," Sherlock whined, shuffling backwards on his knees, begging John to touch him.

"Okay, fine," John rumbled in amusement.

Finally, he licked around the soft skin of Sherlock's hole, his tongue skimming the rim. It was still gaping, and John licked just inside. Sherlock started gasping under his breath, pleading in a low tone for John to add more pressure, anything.

John lapped at him in earnest now, the broad flat of his tongue covering him and delving into him, dipping in and teasing him. It was the most pleasant torture Sherlock had ever endured.

But something deeper inside of Sherlock was begging as well, and he cried out in pleasurable agony.

"I want you in me," Sherlock said, voice breathy with the tension. "Now."

"Okay, okay," John said. "You've been so patient. Good lad."

Sherlock whined. John got up on the bed behind him, and stroked his hip soothingly.

"Have you got alpha-sized condoms?" John asked.

"Yes," Sherlock said, scrabbling in his bedside drawer.

He did, in fact, have alpha-sized condoms. He'd been putting his toy in them, discarding them every so often so that he didn't have to keep washing his dildo. It was coming useful now, as Sherlock heard the crinkle of John unwrapping one, and putting it on his sizeable erection.

"Hurry, John," Sherlock said.

"Okay, I've got you," John said. "I'm rather big, so bear down for me, love."

Sherlock did, and groaned as John slid inside, going so deep that he hit the secondary opening that only omega anatomy carried. It felt so good to be filled up all the way, finally. The dildo didn't even compare to having John inside him. Everything throbbed, and Sherlock mewled and clawed at his sheets in ecstasy. 

"I'm going to move now, love," John said. "Hold on to something."

Frantically, Sherlock grabbed onto the railing of his headboard, just as John thrust in. Blissfully, Sherlock rolled along with John's thrusts, crying out with every one, panting. Sweat dripped from his hairline and down his forehead. 

And there it was, the swell of John's knot, joining them together. It was almost time, and Sherlock ground back against it, hoping it would hit his sweet spot.

"There you are, sweetheart, come on, come for me," John said.

John reached around, his fist closing around Sherlock's cock, which was slippery with precome. John jerked him once, twice, and Sherlock howled. He came in spurts all over the bed, and then collapsed in the circle of John's arms, too tired to move.

The knot still joined them, and would take a while to go down. They might even get in another few rounds before they could unknot.

"There you are," John said, stroking Sherlock's sweat-soaked curls.

"John?" Sherlock asked hesitantly. "Will everything still be okay after this is over."

"It might be a bit different," John said. "Would you mind seeing me, knowing that I have been with you this way? And knowing that I still want you this way even without the heat?"

"I wouldn't mind," Sherlock whispered. "I wanted the same thing."

"That's good," John whispered, stroking his side. "Shh, let's rest a while until the next round."

Sherlock settled into the curve of John's body, content and sated. Things might change, for the good or the bad, but right in this moment, Sherlock was happily comfortable where he was.


End file.
